Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Jamirr found his tasks as a zookeeper oddly satisfying.
The animals were obviously well cared for and responded positively to him.
He was surprised, since he was an apex predator himself, even if he kept his fangs and claws hidden but for some reason the residents of Samyra’s zoo didn’t regard him as a threat.
The first day Darryl accompanied him to show him all the various duties, which food went to which animals, how to clean the enclosures while the animals were in their holding pen or night enclosure, and more.
It was a lot to remember and he had a headache by the end of the day but he’d been suffering headaches since he first awoke in a cage himself so he’d become inured to the pain.
To his surprise, the human offered him headclear before locking him into his room. “You look like a man with a migraine,” Darryl said, frowning. He rubbed his own forehead. “I see the stress lines.”
“No one ever gave me anything for the headache before,” Jamirr said, not sure he wanted to risk being injected with meds meant for humans.
“It’s a safe drug, no need to suffer. Samyra doesn’t allow anyone to suffer here if there’s a remedy.”
Darryl returned in about twenty minutes with the inject and Jamirr submitted, reasoning if it killed him then he was free in the Afterlife.
Instead the headache cleared away like magic and he was able to eat the enormous dinner provided.
As he was finishing the sweet dessert which had come on the tray, he was struck by a thought and laughed out loud.
He was just like the animals in the damn zoo, wasn’t he?
Treated better than he’d been treated anyplace else but not free, not able to exercise his right to choose… anything.
He made it through the second day on his own.
There were a few fumbles on his part and the Rigellian sand devils got the kibble meant for the Aldebaran tree ferrets but both animals ate with every sign of enjoyment.
There was a close call when one of the Polluxian night bear cubs got out as he was trying to encourage it into the holding pen but he was able to recapture it right before Darryl showed up to do a random check-in.
He had to clean the Eridani hypotamaz pond, which was a disgusting six hour task which left him sweaty and filthy but he took a shower and put on a fresh uniform and was fine to go spend half an hour working with the adorable six eyed Spican snow kittens.
The third morning he discovered one of the unexpected benefits of his job.
Samyra showed up at the crack of dawn to work beside him.
He hadn’t ever seen her like this, in casual clothes, hair flowing loosely down her back, no makeup.
She seemed younger and almost like a different person, not the cold gladiator.
Side by side they fed the animals and Samyra held her favorites or petted them.
She was fearless but it was obvious the animals had affection for her, or in the case of several large canines, respect.
She told him stories about funny things the animals had done in the past or anecdotes about their antics when different ones accompanied her on official business and he was captivated.
“I so rarely get time to do this,” she said as Jamirr closed the last enclosure and went to let the tantoreans out to roam.
Both were juveniles but gigantic and extremely intelligent.
“Simply existing among my animals and relaxing. You’re doing a good job, by the way.
I liked how you handled Remmo and Bashir this morning. You have an instinct for this work.”
He’d shown her how well the Baradian dogs were doing at learning new tricks. “Thank you, mistress.”
The two large tantoreans came up to the fence, extending their trunks to Samyra and she fed them special nut treats and rubbed their foreheads as they nudged her playfully.
Since each tantorean weighed at least a ton, Jamirr kept a close eye to ensure she was safe.
He could intervene if either animal got aggressive toward her but neither exhibited any such tendencies.
Eventually she dusted her hands off and showed the pair her empty palms, after which they wandered off to explore their pool at the other end of the enclosure.
One waded in until he disappeared beneath the water and then sprayed the other with his trunk.
“Darryl thinks I’m crazy to spend so many credits on these creatures and their proper upkeep,” she said, leaning on the top bar of the fence.
“He thinks I should acquire more gladiators and expand my House. But I need this—I need quiet time with my pets. It feeds my soul.” Straightening, she brushed dust off her skirt and turned away.
“We’ll be going out on gladiator business tomorrow.
You’ll be coming along to handle the animals while I’m busy meeting and greeting.
” And she was gone, already morphing back into the emotionless woman he’d always seen before.
Jamirr stared after her, trying to reconcile the two versions of Samyra in his mind.
She was much more complex than he’d imagined when she stood outside his cage at the market, debating whether to buy him.
He much preferred this version but she had to be the other woman to afford the luxury of letting down her walls among the animals.
And him.
Why had she been so open with him today? Maybe he affected her the way the animals did—as a safe place to be herself.
He found himself hoping that was the case and spent the rest of his day berating himself for forgetting their relative positions in the world.
He was only a step above the residents of the zoo, if that and for all her kindness and soft words during the morning rounds at the zoo, she had the power of life and death over him.
He might wish otherwise but facts were facts.
He needed to be careful. This was far and away the best situation he’d landed in since his first awakening and he shouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it.
In the afternoon he restocked the supply cabinets at the zoo and thereby created the opportunity for himself to go by the training ground where Samyra and her team of gladiators worked out, on his way to the warehouse.
She was in mock combat with two of them and driving them hard, plainly the superior fighter.
Although they were using wooden swords, one of her opponents was bleeding and the other was limping and she was screaming at them, telling them where their weaknesses were and that they’d be dead in the arena before the first trumpets sounded most likely.
Her two most senior gladiators were standing by, laughing at the trainees.
He lingered, watching Samyra and the new man parry and thrust but he couldn’t help listening to the other fighters. He was far enough away across the field the men probably believed he couldn’t hear them but his hearing was like his eyesight—much keener than humans possessed.
“See? There,” said one man triumphantly. “She’s pulling her stroke on the right side.”
“You’re right,” agreed the other reluctantly. “Not every time but clearly there’s something—”
“I noticed it in the last bout with House of Minca. She covers it up well but there’s a vulnerability.”
“Tirion would pay a fair credit to know about this before their scheduled bout.” The second man’s tone was tentative.
“Or maybe a smarter man keeps it to himself and bets wisely.” The first speaker clapped him on the shoulder. “She’s the favorite of course so the odds will be heavily loaded.”
“You’d bet against our own House?”
“To make enough credits to buy my freedom from this place, you’re damn right I would.
” Now the fighter leaned closer but Jamirr could still hear him.
“Whether we tip off anyone or not it’s clear she’s losing a step and it’ll become obvious to the world soon enough.
Even the great Samyra can’t stay at the peak forever.
Better to bail from this House while it’s on top than to become a man wearing the badge of a loser. ”
Jamirr suspected he’d lingered long enough and moved on with his errand but he mulled over the words the rest of the day.
He did two things as a result. First, he started making time to watch Samyra train with her fighters.
He was sure she wouldn’t object because she’d take it as a sign he was interested in fighting, which was not the case.
He hated to admit it but now the problem had been called to his attention by the gossiping gladiators, he could see she was quite skillfully covering up some kind of weakness.
Not every minute, not even every day but often enough to be concerning.
Second, he began watching his trideo in the evenings, focusing on sports channels, although he picked up a lot of general information along the way.
He hadn’t been interested enough in the subject before to care but now he absorbed the details of the gladiatorial system from the endless series of expert commentators blathering away on the various networks.
Samyra, or the Beast Lady as she was indeed known, was undeniably at the top of the violent ‘sport’.
She was everywhere, doing interviews, attending events, signing autograph holo chips, endorsing products, taking bit parts in big budget trideos (playing herself usually or a gladiator exactly like herself).
There was even a Samyra doll, with accessories and a miniature Jaxur.
The arena was where she shone, however, and Jamirr was able to find holos of many of her most famous fights, including a number of to the death contests, which this world and its circuit were avid for.
She was merciless, highly skilled and charismatic in the arena. Jamirr suspected she won on at least several occasions because the men and women sent against her were so afraid of her reputation. They in essence defeated themselves.